


Delayed

by Wilson66



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Airports, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking Games, F/M, Falling In Love, Game of Thrones References, Hux Appreciation Day, Ireland, Irish whiskey, Love, Sleeping Together, Snow, Stranded, Strangers to Lovers, SwoloFic, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-21 16:46:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18144806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wilson66/pseuds/Wilson66
Summary: Broken-hearted Rey Jackson makes a snap decision, finding herself on a flight to Dublin for St Patrick's Day, but when the British weather puts a wrench in her plans and she meets a handsome ginger stranger across the bar, Rey suddenly seems to not mind the delay to her trip.





	Delayed

**Author's Note:**

> Doing my part for the Hux Appreciation Day (17th March) Thank you for my amazing beta @Azuwrite who is the most supportive person I have had the pleasure of meeting and makes the most amazing moodboards.
> 
> Thank you for the ladies of the Den for sprinting with me & the ladies of Sun & Rain for being such a great Reyux loving bunch ♡
> 
> Inspired by the time I was supposed to fly to Dublin for St Patrick's Day but the Beast from the East hit :(

[ ](https://ibb.co/CBVMNV1)

Swallowing the stupidly expensive glass of wine she had just bought in the departure lounge as a pitiful sigh escapes her, she hadn't planned to be here, had been avoiding the plane tickets she had thrown in her underwear drawer two months ago, when the betrayal of her boyfriend of 10 years had come to light. Childhood sweethearts planning to walk down the aisle, a crushed dream when Rey had borrowed his phone and found out. 

 

_ The texts. _

 

To her best friend and maid of honour, printed words on a screen had crushed her heart into dust. She cried, to begin with, the hurt and betrayal raw. She had tried to wrap her head around the deceit two of the closest people in the world had inflicted upon her.

 

The hate had morphed into anger that had silently brewed in the time since until his number had appeared on her screen. Last night when the giant jackass had enquired what she planned on doing with the tickets for the non-refundable deposit honeymoon to Dublin, how her ex and her  _ very _ ex-best friend were happy to pay for the name transfer, so they could get away from it all for St Patrick's Day.

 

_ So, fuck him with his perfect hair and his perfect lips that were born to be kissed.  _

 

Clothes had been thrown into her suitcase, armed with her passport, she had dressed in the first set of clean clothes she could find, which were a pair of black leggings and her favourite grey jumper. Completely inappropriate for the snow storm that had decided to hit Britain in early March.

 

Like a woman possessed, she had battled her way through the freezing conditions, checked in and now found herself drinking overpriced white wine in the departure lounge at Manchester airport. Her mobile phone slowly powering down after she had sent her reply to him.

 

_ Fuck you. _

 

The hollowness of travelling alone hit her with every sip of the bubble filled wine, they had planned this together. Excited to begin their life as a married couple with a trip to a city Rey had dreamed of visiting, both stupidly eager when the visit dropped on St Patrick's day. 

 

The burn of tears she was sick of falling had her fighting to calm her emotions, gnawing at her bottom lip, her hazel eyes snapped wide open, desperate for anything to catch her attention.

 

And that's when she saw him, nestled in the opposite corner to herself, staring off out into the wintery conditions outside. Flaming red hair dishevelled by the fingers that every so often pulled it back from his eyes, the same coloured stubble covering a strong, angular jaw. But it's his eyes, that has her heart aching, an utterly exhausted set of emerald green blankly, staring out at the snow.

 

He shrugs off his black leather jacket, revealing the slim frame hidden underneath, covered by the striped blue and white shirt, fitting snugly against him. A spark of attraction blooms within her, feet already moving before her brain can intervene, already at his table, the wheels of her bag alerting him to her arrival and then her hand is outstretched, a small smile on her lips.

 

“Hello, my name's Rey.”

 

*

 

“So, you're travelling for work, Mr Hux?” Half an hour after introductions and they were sitting comfortably together in the corner Hux had previously occupied. Switching her overpriced glass of Prosecco to an overpriced cup of tea, Rey eyeing her new companion over the rim of her cup.

 

He was handsome, that had been obvious from the other side of the bar, his hair more orange underneath the lights than she first thought. A bright splash of colour in such a mute, dreary place.

 

His clipped London accent had been a pleasant surprise, as he explained how he had travelled up North for business before being required at short notice out of the country. 

 

“Just Hux,” he smiled back at her, nodding at her question, an attempt at learning his first name. Something he seemed severely embarrassed about. “And yourself?”

 

The nice feeling evaporated instantly, replaced by the memories of her real reason for being here and the shame that Rey felt at being so blind. “Visiting family.”

 

The disjointed voice calling flight EI3323 to Dublin interrupts Hux questioning any further, politely dismissing himself to the nearest computer screen, she hears the groan before he walks dejectedly back. “It appears my flight has been delayed.”

 

Her head falls into her hands, a groan similar to his escapes as she speaks through her fingers, “That was my flight too.”

 

“Well,” eying the cold drinks in front of them, Rey pulls herself to her feet, “Would you like something stronger Hux?”

 

Being delayed is soul-crushing, but not so bad when you have company, they discuss menial topics never delving into anything too personal, to begin with. As the lounge grows with more stranded passengers, they abandon their place in the bar, neither seeming to enjoy the overcrowding and noise invading the space. Hux is a doctor, a heart surgeon who studied at Oxford University, and who is a giant fan of Game of Thrones, by the way he gravities to the magazines with any mention of the show on the front cover and the look of utmost horror that wipes the slightly tipsy smile when Rey admits she has never watched an episode.

 

“Rey,” fighting at the smirk she can’t help with his look of worry, she notes how his sharp southern accent seems to be melting, now that he has had a few bourbons, “What do you with your time? Surely being a mechanic doesn’t mean you can’t have fun?”

 

“Shut up,” the playful punch to the arm barely knocks him off balance, still clutching his magazine, he moves towards the alcohol and chocolate, “and for your information, I do know how to have fun.” With his back to her, she’s free to ogle the slim set of shoulders that look perfect in that jacket. “I’ve been told I’m a dab hand at a cross stitch.”

 

“By who, the Queen?” Wincing when she hears the distinct sound of glass catching glass, a smile stretches her lips when he turns triumphantly, brandishing a green bottle of whiskey. “Was that when she sent you a card for your hundredth birthday?”

 

Another punch to the arm, even when she can’t fight the bark of laughter that escapes. “You know, Mr Hux, it would be very easy to leave you here after all this abuse.”

 

“Oh, but you won’t, sweet Rey,” stepping closer, he shakes the bottle in his grasp, “because I found this.”

 

“It’s a bottle of whiskey.” 

 

“Oh, my sweet summer child,” biting her lip to stop laughing at the exasperated sigh that escapes him, realising how close in proximity they have become, “this is Jameson whiskey, only the best Irish whisky around.”

 

Noticing the Irish tilt that escapes at the end of his sentence, she decides to push him further, blindly reaching for a random bottle. “But what’s the difference to this bottle?” 

 

“Ugh, Rey, please!” The volume of his voice escalates, the hidden Irish accent breaking free, “This is Irish whiskey, distilled three times for the better flavour, that,” pointing to the bottle in Rey’s hand in complete disgust, “isn’t even fit to be called whisky.”

 

“So, is it because they’re spelt differently?” 

 

Giving up, Hux abandons her, grabbing handfuls of chocolates and sweets on his way to the register, muttering constantly under his breath.

 

*

 

Five hours since being delayed, they find out their flight has been upgraded to cancelled, enquiry for possible hotels they are informed by the exasperated flight attendant that the storm is far too dangerous to travel in, and the Met office is urging everyone to remain where they are till the worst of the weather has passed and hopefully travel can be resumed tomorrow.

 

Finding themselves at a quiet terminal gate for the night, the snowstorm battering the outside world was their view for the evening. They could barely make out the shapes of the planes through the sleet and snow. They sit in a corner, away from the crowd of people mindlessly roaming. The bottle of whiskey shared between them, Rey and Hux found themselves devouring the goodies they had at the duty-free, whilst people watching.

 

They watch as a young family herd their three children through the duty-free, chuckling as the mother's temper seems to build and build with every wine from both child and husband.

 

“I swear, I have four children,” the lady groans when they pass, giving her husband a slap at the back of the head when he complains for the tenth time about their delayed situation.

 

“You just know that in a minute they are going to have the hugest row,” Hux chuckles, opening a bar of chocolate and offering Rey a piece.

 

“Where do you think they are heading to?” Rey watches the retreating family, a slow smile building.

 

“Disneyland, I bet, then the dad can grumble about all the people and his wife can really lose her shit.” 

 

“What about them?” Hux gestures at a young couple practically devouring each other’s faces to pass the time.

 

“Oh, obviously some sex convention somewhere in Europe?” Rey laughs at Hux’s bark of laughter, the couple oblivious to them.

 

“They look like their regulars to that sort of thing?” He questions, taking another bite of airline chocolate.

 

“Oh yeah, can't you tell with the amount of practice they're fitting in?”

 

And that's how the hours dragged by, a mixture of people watching and creating funny stories of the people around them. After a while, they added the stipulation of taking a shot of whiskey for every overheard complaint at their snowed-in situation.

 

“What about her?” Hux nods at a young woman at the nearby restaurant, currently consuming an enormous amount of waffles, an American by the sounds of the accent.

 

“I bet she’s a young up and coming actress who’s just finished filming on location,” Rey answers, smiling when a thought occurs, “who, in her spare time, writes tentacle porn on her phone for a weird fandom of some weird film that came out in the seventies.”

 

Hux chokes on the whiskey, practically inhaling the last sip, Rey has to give him a hard pat on the back. His skin almost the same colour as his hair when he turns to her, laughing tears streaming down his face when he questions, “Tentacle porn?”

 

“Oh yes, Hux, don't blindly search for it, for the internet is dark and full of terrors.” Taking the bottle and having her own sip, she winks, smirking when his jaw drops slightly.

 

“You have seen Game of Thrones? You lied.” 

 

“Only a little bit, not enough to compete with a super fan like you, but to be fair, you lied about being Irish?”

 

Smiling bashfully, his fingers worry the label of the bottle he takes back from Rey. “I never lied, you just assumed.” 

 

She watches as his throat bobs as he drinks, her own mouth suddenly very dry. “Why the fake accent?”

 

A shrug of the shoulders and the lack of eye contact gives Rey the feeling that this is a topic to tread carefully in. “My father sent me away to boarding school when I was young, I guess my Irish accent comes back more when I’ve had a drink.”

 

“I like it.” Rey moves closer, her hand halting his fingers on their destructive crusade of the Jameson label. Turning his head, she watches his gaze flicker from her eyes to her lips.

 

“Which one?”

“Both.” He can't help the grin at her answer, the way she smiles back when she sees the blush bright on his cheeks. “Tell me something about yourself?” Rey notices the smirk as she slowly pulls the bottle back, arching her brow, she gives him a questioning look. 

 

“Ok… I, uh, never learnt to ride a bike.” 

 

“What? Really?” The whiskey burns as she takes a sip. “Never owned one either, your turn.” Handing the bottle back, a small gasp escapes when their fingers touch.

 

“Um… I'm terrified of flying.” Hux watches as Rey barely hides her shriek of laughter, not wishing to disturb the sleeping passengers near them.

 

A soft smile spread across both their faces, a quiet chuckle coming from Hux when he remembered his mother's look of relief.

 

“Well, considering our current situation, I would guess you are quite relieved,” Rey comments, a yawn escaping her when she casts her eyes out onto the falling thick snow. Exhaustion pulling at her limbs, feeling how her body begins to settle against him. “Why would you have a job that needs you to fly if you hate it?”

 

“For all the lovely people I get to meet.” She turns, noting how his eyes seemed to flicker with a mixture of green and blue at this close proximity. “Your turn.”

 

Another yawn breaks free, hazel eyes sliding closed as her head drops against his shoulder. With as little disruption as he can manage, Hux gently pulls his leather jacket from his body,  draping it over Rey's frame, that seems to make her nestle closer, practically purring at how the fabric is still warm 

 

Her eyes slide shut when her body begins to relax, losing the battle with tiredness. “My favourite colour is orange, like your hair, Hux.” 

 

She feels his arms pull around her shoulder and held her tight, pulling her closer to him when he settles against the wall. Rey can almost swear she feels the ghost of his lips against her forehead and murmurs in his ear, “Call me Armitage.”

 

*

“Rey, wake up.” 

 

“No,” she wanted to grumble, she was comfortable and the dream she was currently having of dapper Irish men wearing killer suits were what dreams were made for, but still the voice that sounded familiar spoke again.

 

“Darling, they’re calling our flight.” 

 

The warm pillow that her head rested on moves slightly, pulling her fully from her slumber, sounds of people moving like herds of rushing beasts pulls Rey further into the land of the living, quickly realising that she has been sleeping nestled in Hux’s chest.

 

A startled squeak has her pulling away instantly, cheeks tinted red with embarrassment now that the whiskey has worn off, especially when she feels the small wetness of drool escaping from her mouth and the leather of his coat falling into her lap. “Oh my god, Hux, I’m so sorry.”

 

Mortification envelops her when she glances the slightly darker stained blue material, so far down his chest, her cheeks burning furiously, Rey’s sure she could melt the snow.

 

“Rey,” Hux’s voice pulls her from her despair, his own cheeks slightly tinged with a pink flush. “I’m sorry darling, but we have to go.”

 

_ Darling _

 

Rey can feel herself wanting to turn to mush at that word alone, her brain slowly catching up to why she was woken in the first place, when Hux repeats himself, “They’re calling our gate.”

 

Hand encased in his, they bolt for the gate, of course, it would be the furthest from their position. Bags barely remaining on their plastic wheels behind them, but Rey can only concentrate on Hux's hand still clasped around her own.

 

_ This is crazy, I hardly know him. _

 

But she couldn't ignore the way her heart seemed to flutter every time she caught him looking at her, the way her insides flopped when he smiled or laughed like he had done playing silly games to pass the time.

 

Reaching the gate, her heart pounded against her ribs. Hux grabs his passport and boarding pass, practically throwing them at the airline rep, which Rey mirrors to her colleague.

 

“Oh,” the woman's warm tone catches Rey from her Hux centric musings, “we have here that you are travelling on your honeymoon. Here at British Airways, we would like to offer our congratulations and have upgraded you and your new husband to first class.”

 

_ Swallow me up, earth, kill me now. _

 

Rey's face burns as she stumbles her way through a ‘thanks’, suddenly unable to meet the eyes of the ginger man who she couldn't look away from moments ago. Walking along the tunnel towards the plane, they were about to be locked in together, the only sound was the drum of the suitcase wheels being dragged behind them.

 

Shown to their first class seats with a complimentary glass of champagne, Rey stares out the window, the reflection of a shadowed Hux staring at the back of her head. She couldn't make out his eyes through the dark shadow, her eyes focusing on the slowing flakes of snow beginning to melt in the early morning rays instead.

 

Gulping the champagne back in one go, her knuckles white with the grip against the stem, “I'm sorry I lied.” Watching as Hux's reflection disappears from view, she hears the deep sigh escape him.

 

“Why did you?” The undercurrent of hurt in his tone has Rey's eyes burning with shameful tears, her hand closest to him gripping the seat, gaze abandoning the outside world to face the consequence of her actions.

 

Those emerald eyes now eyeing her warily, the arms she had slept soundly in, crossed defensively against the chest she had first-hand knowledge of how it was sublime as a pillow. “I was ashamed and embarrassed.”

 

“Of what?” 

 

“I planned this trip a year ago,” wiping a tear that dared to fall, Rey's eyes avert to the seat in front, the plane filling up slowly around them, “I was in love and an idiot, because I didn't see the signs then, that he was already lying and cheating on me with my best friend.” The last few words rushed out as if they burned her tongue to speak, hot shame pulsed through her, igniting the skin of her face. “It’s hard to admit that to yourself, never mind a stranger.”

 

Hux’s hand reached slowly to Rey’s, the one currently digging half-moon crescent shapes into the leather arm between them, her digits slowly relaxing under the gentle pressure of his. “Do you still see me as a stranger?”

 

Her head shakes immediately, causing another tear to fall. “No, you… you’re...” The bell signalling the seatbelt sign bings above their heads, breaking off Rey’s sentence. The air hostess smiles as she walks by, checking they are safe to begin the long-delayed journey.  Hux’s body tenses, Rey remembering his confession in the early hours of the morning, her hand sliding gently into his already warm grip with a reassuring squeeze, her heart fluttering when he returns the gesture.

 

The plane eventually levels, the seat belt sign is turned off, but their hands still remain clasped. “Rey, I, uh, have a confession as well.” He bites his lip in contemplation, his other hand coming to rub against the stubble on his cheek. “I’m not travelling for work, I’m going home to visit my father.”

 

“Ok,” Rey’s hand gives Hux another squeeze, the concept of lying about visiting family an unknown notion to her, “Why didn’t you say?”

 

“Brandol Hux and I haven’t actually spoken in over a decade since my mother died. Words were exchanged that are not polite conversations to remember, especially with a stranger, even one as beautiful as you.” 

 

“I haven't got a family, but I understand holding that sort of pain close to you. My family left me outside a train station when I was little.”

 

They stared at one another, the people travelling around them forgotten as tired eyes gauge the other’s reaction. Rey suddenly pulls her hand away, unfastening her seat belt and retreating to her seat. She felt exposed, unsure why she had felt the need to share something she had kept closely protected in the past.

  
  


_ You lovesick fool, mooning over the first man that offers you a compliment. _

 

The bathroom is blessedly empty when Rey shuts herself in the small space, splashing cold water across her face, she eyes her blushing cheeks in the mirror. A sharp knock at the door startles her. “Just a minute.” 

 

“It’s Hux.”

 

Heart beating erratically, Rey slowly releases the bolt, revealing her travel companion, blocking her exit. “Hux?”

 

“Would you have told me the truth if that woman hadn’t mistaken us for the happy couple?” 

 

“Yes,” her instant reply causes Hux’s body to tense, his knuckles tightly gripping the door, his other arm pressing against the frame, blocking Rey in.

 

“Why, when I’m nothing but a stranger?” 

 

She takes in his bright red hair, those honest green eyes and that angular face that she was desperate to touch and hold. Rey’s mind thought back to the sadness she had caught a glimpse of at the other end of the bar yesterday morning, a look of defeat she had recognised crossing her own features, but then her mind reminded her of how he had laughed alongside her when they created stories of fellow travellers to pass the time, how he had given her his jacket when she had felt the cold from outside and how she had felt safe for the first time in a long time sleeping in his arms. “Because you’re not a stranger, you are so much more.”

 

Hux practically dives from the door, one arm pulling her against him as his other hand fumbles with the door. The already small space edging on unbearable with the added 6ft body, once the door is locked Hux silently asks permission with just a look before gently pulling Rey to sit on top of the counter. His nose bumps against hers, both practically breathing the same breath when he moves to stand in the space between her legs. 

 

“Rey, I hope you know that you mean more to me too.”

 

Her hands move to run through the fiery tresses that had grabbed her attention to begin with, the soft, short locks running through her fingers. Pressing his face against her neck, Rey feels the scratchy stubble on her skin, causing a shiver to run up her spine. One hand finds its way to the back of his neck, while the other smooths its way to the front of Hux’s jeans. His lips find hers immediately, quieting the groan that escapes when she tightens her hold on the hardness she can feel underneath.

 

The kiss is raw and passionate, nibbling teeth and demanding tongues. Hux’s hands find their way to Rey’s hair, pulling it from the bun hairstyle, practically wrapping the dark hair around his hand when Rey’s legs find their way wrapped against his hips. 

 

“Rey, I, uh,” a moan escapes Hux when Rey rocks her hips against his own, the hardness of his cock already causing sweet friction on the material of his jeans, “I haven’t got anything.” 

 

His hands make their way to her hips, gently stopping the motion, breathing erratically, his forehead gently resting against Rey’s own. Her hands make their way back to his hair, pushing it from his green eyes, practically blown with lust. “I’m on the pill and I was clean at my last doctor’s appointment, if…”

 

“I’m clean too.” Hux holds Rey’s chin, staring into her eyes, trying to gauge her mind. “Do you want this?”

 

Gently, she pulls her face from his grip, rubbing her cheek against his as her mouth slowly travels to his ear, “I’ve never wanted anything more.” 

 

Instantly, Hux pulls her closer, his mouth finding its way back to her own. One hand gently keening her chest as the other works its way downwards to the elastic of her legging, his lips ghosting across her own. “Rey, are you sure?”

 

Rey’s hand fumbles with the button of Hux’s jeans, practically keening when his fingers finally reach the apex of her thighs, his mouth finding her own when she brushes against his rock hard cock. The kiss muffles the cries escaping from them when Rey pulls her hand away, shrugging her leggings down her legs. “We haven’t got much time.”

 

Hux’s belt clinks as it hits the floor, his jeans falling down to rest at his ankles when Rey circles his hips with her legs, pulling him closer to her once more. His hands find their way to either side of her cheeks, his mouth against her ear as he whispers how beautiful she looks before him. 

Her eyes shut tightly when he enters her, her body shuddering with the intrusion. Neither move for a moment, trapped in the ecstasy at twenty-thousand feet in the air. Rey’s the first to move, rolling her hips with a sound that escapes her that’s music to Hux’s ears, his own body chasing that sound when the feeling of pure bliss begins to tingle at the bottom of his spine. His hand finds her clit, rubbing furiously as he knows his own orgasm draws near, her inner muscles begin to spasm under his touch, their shared moans grow louder as they forget their location lost in the moment together.

 

Rey breaks first, her body shuddering around Hux’s own, pulling his release from him as their heartbeats begin to gradually slow together. His emerald eyes meet her own, pulling the sweat clad hair from her skin before placing a gentle kiss first on her forehead, then her eyelids and finally her nose and Rey realises that this was exactly what a gaze full of love should look like.

 

“Rey, I...”

 

“EXCUSE ME!” The pounding on the door destroyed their post-orgasm glow, the angry voice on the other side of the door as Rey giggled with embarrassment, to the point Hux just has to kiss her one more time, so the poor air hostess doesn’t hear. “We are landing, so please return to your seats immediately.”

 

Rey slowly returns to her feet, legs like jelly that she places a hand against Hux’s lean chest for balance, when her eyes meet his, she can’t fight the urge to pull him in for one more quick kiss. Hux’s hand finds her own, Rey’s cheeks blushing furiously when he apologises to the pissed off air hostess, muttering something about “being newlyweds that just can’t fight the marital bliss.”

 

He holds her hand as the plane lands, only slightly gripping it too tightly when the wheels hit the tarmac. Her hand remains in his during passport control and as they drag their bags through the winding tunnels of Dublin airport, when they reach the arrivals exit he bites his lip in a gesture Rey is learning is one of his nervous habits. 

 

“What now?” Eyeing her nervously, Rey slowly rises to her tiptoes and brushes her lips against Hux’s own, her teeth nibble against his bottom lip before he pulls her against his body, his tongue demanding access to her mouth that she easily yields.

 

Pulling away slightly to catch her breath, murmuring against his lips, “Show me Dublin, Armitage Hux.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy St Patrick's Day ☘️
> 
> Thank you for reading ♡ Comments and Kudos brighten my day!


End file.
